I survived a bloodlust attack
by SuckUBusJ
Summary: I had never been so close to death in my life... and I have to say, it was beautifully disturbing... is this strange?...


_I am in OC land. I'm into first person this week it seems..._

_ This is again another one, with an OC, who in some things resembles the one in my previous one shot. Is it her? I don't know. I don't think so._

_I am working on a AxI, have a few chapters done, but won't put it up until I'm done or at least halfway done. I don't want readers to suffer for my writer's block if I get it, and waiting sucks. I have experiened it. So I will work on it a bit more and then post it._

_So this is the result when I rest in between chapters. I write first person one shots... just to let my mind relax a bit._

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What a boring Saturday this is. 

I am officially in another holiday (I sound so British). After all, there is no mission tonight and well, everything has been so goddamn boring that I am wishing quietly for a mission. I plan on reading all night and sleeping all day tomorrow to go out with the other officers tomorrow night. So I will give Walter his book back now, him being my 'dealer' when it comes to this reading addiction of mine. I hope I can borrow one for tonight.

Some soldiers are without their uniform already, others are wearing it wrong. I am still in it and prepare myself for a delicious bath and then for my nice pj's. That is, if Pickman doesn't show up. Which will not be too bad. He is a cute guy. He is a co worker and that bothers me. But hey, I can have platonic friends that are cute, right?

The mansion is unusually quiet. And also there is something... weird. Once I put a foot inside the kitchen through the back door, I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Maybe this house is haunted? Oh well, time to find Walter.

"Walter?" I sing song inside the kitchen. "Walterrr?"

Hm, nothing. I see there is still some tea on the table. I love tea. Ok, I have to take some or I won't be able to live with myself.

I go to the counter and take a cup from the shelves. As I am pouring the tea, I feel my hair being caressed. I had let my long hair down in my room, something I never do when I'm working. But it is already my free day, so what the hell.

As I jump and my hands freeze, I feel two long arms caging me and a body behind me, not too close yet, but almost holding me in place. I feel a very very cold nose against my ear. Goosebumps. This is with no doubt, a vampire. I am scared to move. I am done. I am dead. I am unarmed. His nose is now rubbing my neck, at the side. He will kill me, drain me but... how can I tell the others that a vampire is inside the--

Wait a minute... his gloved hands... some kind of sigil...

_Hellsing_—oh. God. This—this is... _no it can't be..._

Don't panic... please breathe... I can't loose control of myself now...

"M-Mr. Alucard?" I asked my voice breaking almost.

But the only thing I receive as an answer is a guttural growl. I try to turn around softly, trying to not seem paralyzed. Maybe he is testing me? He regularly tries to scare people around the manor just to test their reactions, I am told. But this is just too much.

As I try to move, again a louder growl makes me gasp.

His hand turns me around to face him, but I avoid his eyes. I am too scared and I don't want to snap. I need to be conscious at least.

He is not supposed to be doing this... he's supposed to be in control by Hellsing—

...why—why... oh God he's gonna kill me—_God.._

I feel his fingers unbuttoning my collar. I gulp and tears begin to roll down my face. I am shaking. His face comes very close to mine, cleaning my tears with his tongue. As I look up and see half his face, I see those long, scary fangs almost against my skin as he licks my cheek. Long fangs. Longer than I remember. When his face recedes, I look him in the eye submissively as his hand is now unbuttoning my third button. He is being aggressive but not hurting me... yet. And his eyes have sparks of yellow—

Dear God. He's in bloodlust.

A small relief comes to me because I know what is happening. I have read about this from Walter's books; yellow in the eyes, elongated canines, aggressive attitude... sexual and blood cravings... these are symptoms. But that relief vanished immediately. He was going to kill me. And I have very yummy virgin blood running through my veins. I am so so so dead already.

So he will drain me and then fuck me? How does this work? I wish I had read a bit more about this... Thank God I have done everything I wanted in my life... except getting laid. Damn.

Suddenly he leaps toward my neck and then starts grunting like a wild animal. He backs away as if hit by some invisible force coming from me and then comes back infuriated at me. I begin to sob. And it happens again.

And again and again.

I see him spasm and convulse, one hand holding himself up by the counter. His gloves are glowing—

_What the fucking hell is happening!_

Panic fills my brain, making me dizzy. I can't pass out, i just can't. I need to calm down... calm down... breathe...

He keeps jumping toward me and again gets pushed away by that invisible force. I can't move, I'm terrified. His coat is not present, his black hair is as long as mine, half on his face, his shirt is almost torn open, some buttons missing and sprinkled with blood—

Walter, oh god Walter... maybe he—Walter, god... an involuntary sob escapes my lips at this thought.

"Mr. Alucard..." I say, my voice too small for my taste. I have an idea. Yes an idea, not too clear but I am doing anything that comes to my mind.

I just receive a grunt from him again and a guttural purr. I look into his eyes trying to impose myself a bit. He has to believe I don't mean bad for this plan of mine to work.

" I—I know what you're going through believe me... I know about—about bloodlust and—" I got cut off by his hand pulling at my shirt and again coming to my neck. I let him do it. I can't fight against him. But again, he ispushed away which brings him more frustration and convulsions.

"Please listen to me sir... I—I... if you please spare my life, I can help you too—please don't do this... I will reach for my knife but I won't hurt you I sw—" he growls at me warningly as my hand moves a little. "sir I promise I won't—I won't do anything to you, please... I will help. But I need my knife."

My chin is trembling so much I can't speak. I slowly start to reach for a small pocket knife in my boot. His eyes never leave that hand. I feel dizzy all of a sudden, and my mind unprotected; more like invaded. I can't describe it. I slowly grab my knife and even slower, I start to bring it to his and my view.

"It's ok... I won't hurt you, I swear..." I whisper as he seems a bit calmer. He stopped convulsing but the guttural purrs were still present.

"Now I need my other hand..." I slowly bring my hands to his sight. I am still crying, even though I feel a little more in control, apparently.

With my knife I make a long cut from one extreme of my palm to the other. As the liquid begins to tickle down my hand I see him begin to convulse again. Every time he does this, the sigils glow. But what does this mean exactly...

"Don't-don't come to me... let me come to you..." and he obeys by backing away a little. His fangs become even longer. I offer him my hand, blood pooling and almost dripping from the sides. He looks at me and then at my hand.  
"You can drink... it's ok... it's virgin blood, I think you'll--" I am not even done speaking when his lips are against my hand.

Ok, I feel stupid.

He can eat my arm off or something! But I already started this. So I have to finish it.

I feel him purr against my hand and pant. Pant? I thought they didn't breathe...

The gentleness with which he holds my hand against his mouth surprises me. I don't feel his fangs. So I understand he is getting a little more conscious...

He starts getting a bit dizzy. His body sways as his eyes close, his tongue licking blood from my hand. He hits the floor on his knees, now moaning and purring, so I join him on the floor.

I am a nerd, I don't know why fear begins to leave me... and my curiosity takes it's place. I am experiencing something so... unique. I guess people either die or flee in these circumstances. But here I am, living it with him.

Plus... I never imagined the feeding of blood could be... so erotic.

Or maybe is the way he is treating my hand; the expression on his face of pure ecstasy, his moaning and panting. It was almost as if he was making love to my hand. All those thoughts of him being able to eat my arm off, slowly vanish. Specially after the hand that is stabilizing him began... not stabilizing him anymore...

I see said hand, slide up one of his thighs and... begin to softly and almost imperceptibly, rub his erection over his pants. It doesn't... look obscene... it doesn't look violent; his movements are slow and soft. Almost a caress. I look away feeling very guilty about invading his privacy. But my eyes go back to him as I feel his stare. It seems he wants me to watch. And though I might go to hell for thinking this, I wanted to watch too.

I am watching. A lot. And the truth is, now I see, the creature is not so... bad looking. He looks like a man after all...

...just a very pale one with long canines...

...and well... red eyes...

But right now, with closed eyes and instead of that sarcastic look on his face a vulnerable one... he looks so human. Enjoying something so human as a pleasure and need so strong that controls every fiber of his being. An obsession. An addiction.

A weakness...

As I begin to feel my brain swimming in oil for my loss of blood, and almost speak up to make him stop, I see him tightening his eyes, his tongue not moving anymore, his forehead pushing against my fingers and suddenly... silence. His hand, the one holding my hand in place, falls palm flat on the floor, stabilizing himself as he... orgasms.

I feel bad, I feel...

Painfully aroused. But I am blocking it from my mind even if my insides hurt. It is just too wrong... but he looks more calm now. Almost... defenseless. I don't think he will hurt me if I—no! no... what's wrong with me. Get away from him!

He stops drinking from me completely, I see. But his face is still against my hand. I softly rub my hand against his face, in a failed attempt to console my body. His face is soft, stubble less; a bit strange in a 27-30 year old looking man. He pushes his skin against my hand like a cat and fighting against my urges, I bring it back slowly. He is still panting and swaying on his knees. And my hand... is healed.

" I have to go..." I whisper, fear replaced by a soothing tone. He looks up. " can I ask you something?" my voice getting a bit louder. he didn't answer. "did-did you hurt someone tonight?"

"I can't..." His whispered answer.

" Hmm..." I stand up slowly. "I hope it helped..." I said and slowly walk out the kitchen and the mansion, without any comments from him. Just his head low, hair on his features and panting.

A night of solo action awaits for me.

Damn, I left the book in the kitchen...

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_Done. Now i have to go back to the big story... _

_Hope I didn't waste your time or anything... pls review, so I can fix things in my other story... thanx!_


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